


Pausing

by stephanericher



Series: 31 Days of Horoscopes [24]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:40:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9576194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: 2/4: Emotions, impressions, and memories could come up from your subconscious today, Aquarius. This may preoccupy you and keep you from other matters. This is a positive development. Pleasant memories bring joy. Disturbing ones offer a release from past trauma. Write down your thoughts and then distract yourself by doing something you love. The significance of this process should come later.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so this 31-day challenge is based on the wonderful [31-Day Horoscope Challenge by @icandrawamoth](http://archiveofourown.org/series/621022). Simply: read your horoscope for the day from horoscope.com (Aquarius for me); use it as a writing prompt.

Tatsuya returns from his dream to a dry mouth squished against a pillow and drowsiness clinging to him like socks stuck to a blanket with static. He closes his eyes, yawns, and rolls over, wincing as the collar of his shirt presses against his throat. The top button’s undone, but he pops the next two, as well. The clothes are wrinkled, anyway, and he has nowhere else to go today—probably outside the bedroom, though.  
  
The nice thing about late spring is that the days are long here, long enough to catch a nap after work and wake up to daylight outside. It doesn’t feel as if he’s missed as much like this. Still, daylight or no, he has to be awake in eleven hours, and it’s so comfortable in this patch of sunlight. And maybe he could get back to the same dream, being free on the court with his own feet lighter than the air, jumping to dunk the ball in from over the backboard, blocking a shot when he’s behind the free-throw line as his opponent starts to jump. It’s nowhere close to real life, real basketball, but that’s what’s so fun about it, the surreal feeling of basketball with no limits.  
  
He closes his eyes again, but he’s thought too much too hard, and he’s not going to go back to sleep. There’s probably something good on TV, a rerun on one of those channels devoted seemingly-exclusively to old shows and odd-hour news, and he can watch that and wait for Alex to come home. There’s dinner, too (leftovers more than likely) but that can wait until he’s actually awake (or at least somewhere close to alert). He picks up the remote from the coffee table and presses the power button as he walks into the kitchen for some water.  
  
The TV’s on by the time he gets back; he flips until he lands on a One Tree Hill episode he’s pretty sure he’s seen five or six times already. He can’t quite recite all the dialogue, but he knows the gist of it before it’s coming. The cinematography’s nothing to write home about, but he’s not sure he’s ever noticed it before. Some of the tight shots are nice, though; they suit the characters and convey the right overly-dramatic emotions. Perfect.  
  
There’s a sound of footsteps outside the door; Tatsuya turns. It’s a little early for Alex, but maybe not; there’s the sound of the key in the lock and then the door opens. She’d had a bunch of errands to run today; she’s dressed like it, pencil skirt and blouse and heels with the slightly-cracking leather purse she loves. Tatsuya’s already halfway off the couch to meet her; she looks as exhausted as he feels.  
  
She holds him tightly, pressing their bodies together, his mouth into her collarbone. She smells like sweat and public transportation; it’s no aphrodisiac. He touches his hand to the small of her back, and she hugs him even tighter.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
“My feet hurt.”  
  
She kicks off her shoes while standing (a trick Tatsuya has no idea how she’d mastered without spraining both of her ankles) and sinks to her normal height at Tatsuya’s eye level, wincing. She hasn’t worn anything but sneakers and boots in a while, and her feet are protesting with blood and blisters.  
  
“I’m going to take care of it,” she says, letting him go and trailing off down the hall.  
  
She glances back once to catch him looking, but her glasses are falling down her nose and the effect is ruined. Tatsuya still looks until she’s around the corner and into the bathroom before settling back down in front of the TV and staring at the commercials. None of them ever want to make him buy anything, but maybe it’s working on a subconscious level or something.  
  
The show’s back on when Alex comes back, band-aids on her feet and half of her outfit mysteriously shed somewhere between here and there. She sits down next to Tatsuya and yawns.  
  
“Long day?” says Tatsuya.  
  
“Oh, yeah,” says Alex.  
  
She flexes her feet out in front of her and flips her hair behind her shoulder.  
  
“You’ve seen this episode how many times?”  
  
“Doesn’t matter,” says Tatsuya. “You haven’t seen it once.”  
  
“How do you know?”  
  
“Because you refuse to watch this most of the time.”  
  
Alex shrugs. “Maybe watching through this episode is the reason I won’t.”  
  
She doesn’t make a grab for the remote, but then again it’s too early for her favorite cartoon block to start so that’s probably why. Alex closes her eyes; the dark circles beneath them are like smudged charcoal, eyeshadow in reverse.  
  
“You need to sleep more.”  
  
“Mm.”  
  
She’s only half-listening, but she pats the area right next to her. Tatsuya obliges, scooting over until he’s practically pressed up against her. Her bare thighs are warm; he can feel it through the fabric of his pants and from his hand around her waist hovering inches above.  
  
“You want dinner?” he asks.  
  
“Not right now.”  
  
The sun’s sinking lower in the sky; its reflection is probably hitting the windows of the high-rise several blocks away judging by the way it glares through the blinds on the window behind the TV. Tatsuya squints and then looks away; he blinks the spots out of his eyes until Alex comes into focus. Her eyes are still closed, her lips parted, her glasses slightly tilted to the left. Her blouse is slipping off her shoulder, partially exposing the dusting of freckles that she hates but pretends not to notice (Tatsuya happens to think they’re cute, but Alex wrinkles her nose every time he tells her that). He was going to tell her about his dream, but he’s forgotten it by now. Maybe it involved basketball, but it doesn’t seem to line up. It doesn’t really matter anyway.  
  
With the sun shining like this, he can’t see the TV. It’s back on commercials, and Tatsuya’s not really sure what they’re for, just overproduced music and slogans he doesn’t know. Alex shifts, leaning more against him than against the back of the couch, sighing so softly Tatsuya’s not sure he hears it at first.  
  
“Can we turn it off?”  
  
He reaches for the remote and presses the button; the face of the TV turns to black. Hopefully they won’t fall asleep on the couch this time.


End file.
